


out of nowhere

by dontcallmejordy



Category: X-Factor (Comics), X-Force (Comics)
Genre: Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, i just want to make sure my bases are covered, just so so much handholding, post end of x-factor fix it fic, suicide isn't a plot point at all, this is just ric and star hopping around planets dealing with their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 08:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19663471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcallmejordy/pseuds/dontcallmejordy
Summary: After the end of X-Factor, Star and Ric are far from everyone and everything they’ve ever known.If Marvel ever let me write a RicStar mini, this is what it would be about.





	out of nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is kind of an AU if only because it would be really wild if Ric and Star never spoke of the events of this story again but also like. It's technically canon compliant so. 
> 
> Title is Hozier courtesy of the Hozier fic title generator. As always, many thanks to Aiden for the editing support and the general plot outline that we wrote back in like....December lol?

**Mojoworld: the Past**

They take a few hours for Star to sleep, even though Ric jumps every time he hears a noise in the next room, before they make the journey back to drop off Baby Star.

Star is exhausted. It’s evident in weight he places on Ric’s shoulder when he stands and in the extra ten seconds he takes to answer all of Ric’s questions. He doesn’t even protest when Ric suggests that they sit down and rest for a little bit, which is maybe the scariest part of all. Ric just helps him finish dismantling the equipment and then uses the last of Star’s cape to make a cleanish space on the floor for them both to lay down. 

Ric is equally exhausted but he stays up to keep watch on both Stars; one curled asleep in his arms and one with his head resting on Ric’s lap, the rest of his absurdly lanky body sprawled out on the cold floor. Ric looks from one to the other, caught in a vague sense of disbelief. He can’t imagine anything tying these two people together. It’s like looking at the future and like looking at a mirage all at once. Were it not for the eye mark, Ric might refuse to believe there was any relation at all. 

“What am I supposed to do with you while you sleep?” Ric asks, trying to sound concerned, rather than near-hysterical.

“Just keep watch,” says Star, adjusting slightly. “I’ve slept on your lap plenty of times before.”

“I mean baby you,” says Ric. “I don’t know how to take care of a baby. What if you cry?”

“A lifetime as a tool of the Spineless Ones didn’t kill me. I am more than confident that I will survive a few hours in your care,” says Star, with such a sharp edge to his voice that Ric doesn’t press the question.

Instead, he stares down at Star’s tiny face and at the impossibly small hand still wrapped around his index finger. Baby Star is light as a feather in his arms.  _ I could probably hold him forever _ , Ric thinks, then shakes the thought away, alarmed.

Ric has never longed to be a parent, hadn’t even really had time to consider the idea in his fairly short and miserable life. This sudden rush of protectiveness is unbidden and uncomfortable, something foreign invading his thoughts. 

The emotion gives rise to a tug of homesickness in his chest. _ It’s been so long _ , he thinks. He’s not sure how long, exactly. More than weeks but less than years. He wonders what will be waiting for them when they make it back. If they make it back. The life that he and Star and everybody else at X-Factor had built was just starting to take shape and its loss is a hollow thing in Ric’s chest. 

He looks down at Star’s sleeping face, at his slack features and slightly parted lips. Any resemblance to the tiny thing in his arms is lost completely on Ric, childish curves exchanged for the hard angle of his nose and sloping hollows of his cheekbones. Star’s brow furrows slightly in his sleep. Absently, Ric reaches out to smooth it, an action he’s repeated countless times before. 

Ric shakes his head against the tears threatening to well in his eyes and instead focuses his attention out into the darkness of the ruined compound, the only sounds the hiss and drip of broken machinery and beneath it, Star’s steady breathing. 

-

Star sleeps fitfully in his lap, and Ric waits as long as he thinks is safe before waking him. Star says nothing as they prepare to leave, his shoulders rigid with exhaustion and pain. Ric watches him examine his swords and run a final sweep of the perimeter, and it feels a little like he’s getting a glimpse of the old Star, the angry teenager he was when Ric first met him. It unsettles him. 

“Are you ready?” asks Star over his shoulder.

“Always,” says Ric. He turns, looks up at Star and smiles, close-mouthed but genuine. Star looks down at him, eyes serious, but the corners of his mouth turn up just a bit as the air sizzles and crackles around them and the telltale X begins to form. 

“We’ll have to teleport well outside of the arena,” says Star. “We can’t risk—”

The rest is lost in the sizzling energy of the portal as Ric steps in after him.

His feet crunch on dirt and Ric takes a moment to adjust to the suddenly stifling air around him. They’re standing in a small, shallow cave. The ceiling is low, just tall enough for Ric to stand up in, meaning Star will definitely have to crouch. There’s nothing of note that Ric can see, just smooth walls and dirt.

“Where are we?” asks Ric.

“A cave,” says Star, in that same clipped tone he used earlier. He’s already on the ground, curled up against the wall of the cave, his knees pulled up against his chest. The fact that the last jump drained him so much is concerning, but there’s nothing to be done until this mission is over, so Ric pushes the feeling down with every other emotion he hasn’t had time to deal with. 

He’s still holding Baby Star, who slept soundly even through the walk through the portal, and he bounces him in his arms slightly as he slides down the wall next to Star. It’s not enough to wake him up but Ric can see his tiny eyes scrunch slightly. Star won’t look at the baby. He sits with his head tipped back against the walls of the cave, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. 

“I will take the child to Arize,” says Star finally. “He’ll know to deliver me to the Spineless Ones.” 

“I can’t come with you?” Ric asks, not caring that he sounds desperate.

“I know how best to avoid detection by the Spineless Ones,” says Star. “It will be quick. I’ll return soon.” 

“Star--” says Ric, not even sure how he means to finish the sentence. 

“I  _ will _ be back,” says Star, taking Ric’s hand and squeezing tightly. 

==

It’s harder than Ric thought it would be to give up Baby Star, helped not at all by the fact that Star seems no more willing to take the baby than Ric is willing to give him up. Star holds the baby stiffly, like he isn’t sure what to do with it, and when he looks up at Ric, his eyes burn with an emotion Ric still isn’t able to place. Ric reaches and places his hand against the side of Star’s face, feels the slight pressure of Star leaning into his touch, and then Star is gone. 

Even the air of Mojoworld feels oppressive, every breath comes hot and sticky, a cough threatening in his throat. It’s dark when Star returns, long enough that Ric has already worn a divet in the cave floor with his pacing. He hears crunching outside the entrance to the cave, the first noise he’s heard since Star left, and then Star staggers in, one hand against the side of the cave. 

Ric doesn’t wait for him to make it all the way in before pulling him into a tight hug. His hands tangle in Star’s hair and he feels his beard scrape against the side of Star’s face. Star returns the hug with just as much force, dropping his head to rest on Ric’s shoulder.

“We have to leave,” he mumbles into the cloth.

“In a few hours,” says Ric.

They sleep on the cave floor, hands pressed up under shirts to try and leech even a little warmth from each other. Ric knows they should take shifts but he’s too tired. His thoughts come slowly and an aching pressure has been building behind his eyes since they arrived. He’s not sure the last time he had anything to eat or drink.

Ric sleeps like the dead, but it’s still dark when he wakes up. He can see the barest outline of Star’s face in the darkness, his eyes opening slowly as Ric moves. 

“You can sleep a little longer,” he says.

“We can’t stay here,” says Star. “I spent my entire life escaping from this place, I will  _ not _ die here.”

It’s such a Star thing to say, such an intense response to a simple comment. Ric just looks at him for a long moment, thinking about that old familiar anger in his voice. About the way that this place is changing Star. About the headache still lurking behind his eyes. There’s a million things he wants to say. 

_ You’re not going to die here,  _ he thinks.  _ I won’t let it happen. I missed you. I miss you.  _ But Ric’s given enough empty promises to last a lifetime. It’s been a long time since he felt like he could guarantee something like that. 

He tries a different path.

“What is this cave?” he asks. “Why did you take us here?”

Star looks at him. Ric looks back. 

“I stayed here,” says Star, sentences chopped and short, like he can only bear to dole out information in pieces. Like the truth of it might break him. 

All of a sudden Ric wants to ask him to stop, to take it back and say it doesn’t matter. That they’re here now and they’re leaving soon. But Star’s eyes are fixed on something beyond Ric’s head. 

“For a while. After I escaped from the Spineless Ones. Before I joined the alliance.” 

Ric looks around. The cave is small and dark and low. The ceiling hangs oppressively over them and the walls ooze with condensation. He tries to picture living in this cave. Tries to picture it as a home. 

“I’m sorry,” says Ric, a lifeless, lacking phrase. It’s all he has. “Thanks for telling me.” 

“It’s just a cave,” says Star. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Ric doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have anything to say. His mouth feels sticky with emotion and lack of water. Finally, he nods and moves to get up off the floor. He already misses the warm pressure on his chest where Star’s hands rested. 

==

They have no possessions, and they’re ready to go as soon as they’re standing there facing each other. 

“Are you going to be able to bring us all the way home?” Ric asks.

“I’m not sure,” says Star. His voice is thin and Ric can’t help feeling like all the time they spend here is leeching something from him. Ric’s skin crawls with the need to escape. 

“What if your powers tap out and we end up in the middle of space or something?” asks Ric. He doesn’t want to know, really. He’s always been ready to die for a good cause. There’s worse ways to go than on the way home with Star. 

Star pauses for just a beat too long. “I’ve tested the limits of my powers before. I don’t think I’ll teleport into an environment I can’t survive.”

Ric shrugs, and reaches for Star’s hand. “I trust you,” he says. It comes easily. 

Star takes his hand, squeezes once. “Thank you,” he says. Then, “Think of home.” and the air is crackling around them. 

Star steps forward. Ric follows. 

==

**Location Unknown**

Ric steps out into a field of purple flowers unlike any he’s seen before. It stretches into the distance as far as he can see, dotted occasionally by leafless, curling trees. Soft blossoms release a slight perfume as they fall beneath his feet. He sees something that looks like a road not too far away, and a series of crystal buildings further in the distance, shimmering under an unsettling yellow sky. The air is cool and crisp, a welcome departure from the oppressive heat of Mojoworld. 

“Where are we?” asks Ric.

Star just shrugs. “Far from the Spineless Ones.”

Ric can’t help but grin a little at that. “Well,” he says. “That’s step one at least.” 

“A necessary milestone,” agrees Star. “But we have to keep moving. Their reach extends farther than I am comfortable with.”

There’s not really anywhere else to go so they walk towards the road. They make it to the edge, where the field shifts from flowers to small crystal chips, before Star finally collapses to his knees. Not the dramatic swoon that Ric was halfway expecting, but a clear signal that they won’t be going anywhere any time soon. 

Ric falls to his knees beside him, not quite as heavily but with no particular grace. He does his best to make Star a little more comfortable, settles Star between his legs, and adjusts his hands so that he can feel Star’s heartbeat, just a little too fast. Star tilts his head back so it’s resting on Ric’s body, his breath hot against Ric’s neck. It sounds shallow and slightly raspy and all Ric can do is rub his thumb in circles over Star’s hand over and over again. 

It dawns on Ric, slow and horrifying, that they may not actually make it back to Earth. They’ve been staggering from location to location, running on fumes and their deepest, most base survival instinct. 

It might not be the worst thing in the world, Ric thinks, to let it end like this. Dying on the side of the road on a world lightyears from anything he’s ever known. Star is at his side, the air is cool, the sun is warm. This is what he’s always wanted, isn’t it?

He’s not sure how long they lay there. Ric drifts in and out of consciousness, clutching Star and shivering lightly, until eventually he hears the sound of a vehicle approaching behind him. Ric knows he should stand up, should turn around and try and face whoever may be trying to threaten him but he’s so  _ tired _ . Behind him, the vehicle comes to a stop and Ric can hear what sounds like somebody dismounting and walking towards him. 

There’s a hand on Ric’s shoulder but his eyes are too heavy to open. He wants to fight back but his limbs are heavy and disobedient. He feels something at his lips, cool water pouring out the corners of his mouth. It tastes wrong, somehow soft and metallic. 

“No,” he tries to say, “Help him first.” He’s not sure if anybody hears him. 

He feels himself being moved, clings tighter to Star. “You can’t separate us,” he says, in Spanish, in Cadre, in English, maybe in a mix of all three. 

Many hands on his shoulders. 

Something crinkles beneath his head. 

He’s too tired to stay awake any longer. 

Everything is black.

==

Ric is in the center of the earth. His earth.

It’s warm. Fault lines move and shift all around him, but it’s still and dark where he lays curled, right at the very center. 

He could rest here forever, he knows. The problems of the surface feel far away here. Ric is infinite, his senses expanding through every nook and cranny and yet he is unimaginably small. The earth knows him here. It would be easy to stay. 

He can hear cracks and fissures forming all around him, slowly at first, then in a cacophonous rumble. He reaches out with his powers but it’s beyond his control now. Great fissures form and split around him. He’s falling. 

==

He wakes with a start, and the first thing he sees is blinding crystalline white. He sits up, feels the wires and cables attached to him pull as he sits up. He feels empty and cold. He reaches out for that familiar warmth, but the fault lines here, with their splintering, flaking crystal edges, are unfamiliar and uninterested in his presence.

Something somewhere starts beeping. He looks to the side and Star is standing up, hastily removing wires and cables. 

“Star?” says Ric, his voice still bleary.

“We have to go,” says Star his voice clipped and heavy with concern. He’s holding something small in his hand, it has cables and wires coming out of all sides of it and a single bulbous glass eye. A camera. 

Ric looks around the clean, sterile room. There’s no furniture, just white medical equipment. Suddenly, the room starts to glow red. A harsh alarm fills the room with sound. 

They collect their things as quickly as they can and leave the hospital in a burst of light, teleporting straight out of the room. The room is small and Star opens the portal immediately under their feet.  _ Somewhere without cameras,  _ Ric thinks,and then gravity gives out and they’re falling. Ric clings as tightly to Star’s hand as he can manage.

==

**Somewhere Else**

They land heavily on the ground, on a world that looks more like the surface of Earth’s moon. Grey rock as far as the eye can see, and black space above them. It’s nighttime but the curtain of stars overhead shine brightly. The air feels thin here, but Ric can breathe and Star seems to be having no trouble so he decides to trust it for now.

It’s difficult to imagine that the Spineless Ones could have followed them down here, but Ric finds his eyes wandering in search of any hint of a metallic glint or the telltale ticking noise of metal on plastic. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Star do the same. 

Ric takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the world around him. “I guess it’s better than the vacuum of space.” 

Star hums in agreement, kicking lightly at the rocks with his bare foot. In their rush to leave the hospital, neither of them had bothered to change, and now Star stands out, stark white and orange against the grey and black all around them. Already grey dust clings to their feet. Ric feels buzzy with adrenaline and freedom, feels it crawling down the tips of his fingers.

“You’re all in white again,” he says, reaching out to brush his fingers against Star’s hospital clothes.

Star looks down at himself, pulls at the fabric curiously. 

“I’m not sure that I’ve missed it,” he says with a wry quirk of his lips. It’s the exact expression that’s driven Ric crazy since day one.

“I don’t know,” says Ric, moving a little closer to put his hands on Star’s waist. The thrill of escape still hums through his veins. “I don’t mind.” 

“Really?” says Star, leaning in for a kiss. “Maybe I’ll keep it then.” 

==

**Location Unknown**

The next planets pass by in a blur. They start off on every world with no money, no language, and the appearance of strangers. Sometimes they end up in the middle of a thriving city, sometimes they don’t encounter anybody at all. The long jumps are too draining to make more than one in a day. 

Once, they land on a planet and they’re both instantly ill. A single breath of the air and suddenly everything is spinning around him. They both collapse to the ground.  _ Not again _ , Ric thinks. It’s so fucking typical of the universe, of his life. 

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. 

Next to him, and with obvious effort, Star pulls himself up to his feet. He’s using his swords to keep himself upright but he moves until his foot is touching the edge of Ric’s arm.

“Think of home,” he rasps out, trying to speak without breathing.

The world is spinning and Ric’s head hurts more than ever but he thinks about X-Factor and about the coffee shop by their building and about that stupid, ridiculous funeral home. 

A portal opens just inches from his face, and Star drags them through, half-falling onto the other side. 

They spend a day of laying on the ground shivering uncontrollably and trying to get warm and finally Ric just gives in and cries because they have no supplies and no food and because he feels so  _ fucking  _ terrible and he doesn’t even have a bed. 

They’ve always slept ridiculously close together, at first because it felt like the only way they could be close, when touching during the daylight wasn’t an option. Later, it felt like making up for lost time. Like somehow if they could just crawl inside each other’s skin maybe all their time apart might finally be erased. 

“How is that possibly comfortable?” Layla had asked, one night. She’d shown up in their room unexpectedly and Ric was still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as Star pressed the tip of his sword to her neck. “Like, how do you get any sleep like that?”

“Why the fuck are you in our room?” had been the only response Ric had had to offer at the time. 

Lately it’s felt more like a necessity than a preference. Their only chance to claw some fleeting sense of safety from the jaws of an uncaring universe. 

Now, laying several feet apart from Star on the ground, Ric wants that sense of contact so bad he can feel it all the way to his fingertips. 

“I can’t  _ fucking  _ do this any more,” says Ric, on his hands and knees on the ground, his second attempt to stand up in an hour.

Next to him on the ground, Star moves slightly from where he’s curled in the fetal position. He makes a small noise. It sounds pained. “It’s getting better,” he says after a while. 

It’s not the comfort that he was looking for, but it’s not the worst thing Star’s ever said either. Ric collapses to his forearms and curls up on his side.

“I hate this,” he says. He’s not sure if he means the situation they’re currently in or the whole thing. It’s true of both. 

“I do too,” says Star. There’s no emotion attached to the statement. 

“Do you regret coming back?” says Ric. Then, when Star doesn’t say anything, clarifies. “Coming back to Earth. After you left the first time.”

“No,” says Star. “Why would I?”

“If you hadn’t come back, you probably wouldn’t be here right now,” says Ric. And then, just to be mean, “I wouldn’t be either.”

“But if I hadn’t come back I never would have seen you again,” says Star, a sharpness to his tone. “You’re the one that taught me to be selfish. This is me being selfish.” 

Ric looks at Star, all seven feet of him curled up on the ground into an impossibly small ball, as close as he can manage but still feet away from him because any kind of contact feels awful right now. He doesn’t looks like he’s being selfish. 

It takes one miserable day and then they both feel well enough to jump again. They keep going.

==

**Location Unknown**

They’re falling for only a second and then Ric is laying on his back on the ground, turning over painfully to see Star standing above him surveying their surroundings. Ric winces as he stands up and sticks and leaves dig into his back and hands. 

They’re in the middle of a forest with trees rise as high as Ric can see. It’s dark down here, everything overcast in a deep greenblack shadow. At their feet small patches of sunlight dance and shift, each one of them no bigger than Ric’s hand.

Everything is covered in a thick layer of moss, and it adds a heavy, muffled quality to the air. Small sounds permeate the air, a chorus of screeching, clicking, and scratching forming a low-level background hum that feels muffled by the oppressive weight of the greenery surrounding them. 

The creatures that live here aren’t afraid of them, and Ric almost feels bad watching Star kill one with a flick of his sword. He watches its trusting gait as it approaches, the quick jerk of its body as Star drives his sword into it. But he doesn’t remember the last time they ate a real meal, beyond whatever they were given while they were unconscious in the hospital. 

_ I’m sorry, _ he thinks. The Catholic prayers from his childhood rise to the surface as he cleans the animal.  _ Perdona nuestras ofensas. _ He hasn’t been to confession in years, wouldn’t go even if he had the chance, but he can’t help the Hail Marys that wind their way through his head like a song he can’t get unstuck. 

==

The meat tastes wrong, like earth and grass and smoke, but he and Star devour it anyway, sitting on opposite sides of their small fire. 

“Was there a religion on Mojoworld?” Ric asks, just for something to fill the silence. 

Star looks up from his meal and tilts his head thoughtfully. “Not like on earth,” he says after a minute. “Gods were...immediate on Mojoworld. Mojo thought himself a god, the world and its people his to control. He was, at least to me, for a while. I did not receive anything if Mojo did not grant it to me. I had no way to influence my life except by demonstrating my loyalty.” 

“And now?” asks Ric. “Do you believe in anything?”

“I have fought those who claim to be gods, ones more powerful than the Spineless ones could ever hope to be, and emerged victorious.” says Star, and there’s that old familiar arrogance again. “I’ve met Thor and Hela and Darwin. Gods are only what you make of them, and my life is my own. What about you, Ric? What do you believe in?”

_ You _ , Ric thinks. 

“Nothing, really. Not anymore.” 

Star gives him one of those long, intense looks that he seems to have mastered, and it makes Ric want to flinch away. The weight of it threatens to break him open, to make him say every painful, suffocating thought that he’s put on the back burner since he watched Star walk out of that cave with a tiny baby in his arms. 

_ I’m not sure what to hold onto _ , he almost says.  _ I’m scared. I have this nagging feeling we might never make it back. _

Maybe, if he just says it, finds a way to put a week of fear and regret and longing and “just trying to make it to the next step no matter what they have to do to get there” into words, then everything will be better. 

Or maybe it will all fall apart. 

Ric has been hiding pieces of himself since he first realized who he really was. He doesn’t need anybody to know the whole truth of himself. Isn’t going to make others deal with it. Isn’t going to make Star give him a whole truth of his own. 

He wants to, sometimes. But when has Ric ever gotten what he wanted? 

Instead, he turns his eyes to the inscrutable black mass of the forest canopy. He watches sparks rise from the fire and disappear into the looming darkness and pretends that they’re stars. 

==

At night, huge creatures roam the forest, their heavy footsteps shaking the forest floor and the sound of their breathing disturbing the leaves. The first night, they both stay awake, bodies tense searching for any hint that the creatures might approach, but the creatures never come near, just tear up patches of moss and rip enormous leaves from the trees. When Ric wakes, he can see where their footprints remain in the soft ground, each claw imprint large enough to fit both of his feet. 

“Where do you think we are?” Ric asks on the third night as he listens to the unfamiliar rustle of strange leaves moving on strange wind. They’re laying in the hollow of one of the trees, curled tightly around each other like that might protect against whatever dangers lurk outside. The question is loaded. Star’s arm around him tenses. 

“I don’t know,” says Star. “I can’t see the sky from here, there’s nothing to orient me.”

Star has never been one for metaphors before, and Ric doesn’t believe that he’s going to start now, but it still makes his chest ache. 

“What do you want to do when we get home?” he asks, not because it hurts any less, but just for something else to talk about. It’s a left turn, but he knows Star won’t mind. They’ve always been this way, jumping from one thought to another with no theme connecting the two. It had always driven their teammates crazy, and Ric thinks it’s only gotten worse since they’ve been travelling alone. 

Star makes that low humming noise that lets Ric know he’s truly considering the question. Star does nothing in half measures. 

“We were going to watch the new  _ Star Trek _ movie,” says Star. “We could rent it on DVD.” 

“Get some Indian from that place around the corner—” Ric stops, and he can tell by the way that Star stills that he’s having the same thought. There is no “around the corner.” Their life is ashes now. 

“We could find a new corner,” says Star. 

“Yeah,” says Ric, because there’s nothing else to say. “Yeah.” 

There’s a long moment of silence, and then Star says, “I want to find Alison. I want...to apologize.”

“For what?” asks Ric, even though he already knows the answer. 

“I did what I had to do.” Star pauses for so long that Ric thinks he might not continue. “But I’m still not sure it was the right thing. Maybe if I speak to her, I can make it right.”

Ric’s breath hitches, just a beat. “Star,” he says. But he’s stuck. He doesn’t know where he is, and there’s nowhere to go from here. Star’s hand closes around his own in the darkness, cool and dry. Star’s fingers lace in his own. “I’ll go with you. Wherever you want to go. If you want to find Alison or if we never get home at all and you want to set up camp on one of these alien worlds and never leave. Whatever you want to do.” 

He thought he was through with impossible promises, but Ric needs to believe this like he needs food, water, air. From the moment Star fell out of the sky and kissed him, Ric had realized he was never going to let Star out of his sight again. 

“I want to be here with you,” says Star, easy as breathing. “Everything else will come after.” 

It feels like a promise, like a proposal, like Star forged a chain out of beautiful words and unspoken emotions and closed it around Ric’s wrist. 

_ That’s it _ , Ric thinks, the gossamer-fine difference between wanting and believing suddenly made so crystal clear. He knows better than to count on anything, than to believe that he could have something as impossible as forever. But all of a sudden he’s willing to make an exception.

==

**A Port Somewhere**

It’s by sheerest chance that after a week of aimless jumping they find themselves at the edge of a space dock teeming with people. Based on the dizzying variety of life around, this has to be a port world, something that specializes in shipping or tourism. They’re wandering around, looking to see what their best chance of securing food is when they run into a tall, stocky alien. 

“I know you!” the alien exclaims, sounding pleased. 

“I think you have us mistaken for somebody else,” says Ric, looking down. He’s already moving to walk away. 

“You’re X-Men,” says the stranger. “I am Tobis! Such an honor to meet the video stars of my childhood!” 

“I don’t--” says Ric, still trying to figure out if it’s even worth lying about. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d know those faces anywhere!” Tobis says. “Rictor and Shatterstar. You fought with Cable. My entire pod would watch satellite streams of your battles for hours on stolen MojoworldTV.”

Looking back between their mutually shocked expressions, Tobis jumps, looking surprised for a second.

“Oh!” they say, suddenly lowering their voice so it can barely be heard above the din of the crowded port. “Are you on an undercover mission?” 

They look so comically panicked that Ric can’t even come up with a convincing lie.

“No,” says Star, unfazed. “We’re just trying to get home.” 

“To Earth?” asks Tobis, sounding distraught. “That’s lightyears from here.” 

“Oh,” says Ric, helplessly. Star reaches out and squeezes his hand. 

“It will be alright,” he whispers. 

Tobis looks between them.

“I only mean that a humble trader such as myself would never venture that far,” Tobis says, sounding slightly apologetic. “Surely the great X-Men would have no problem navigating this distance.” 

“Yes, well,” says Star. “We find ourselves unfortunately lacking in resources at the moment. Is there any chance you could direct us to somebody making such a journey?” 

Tobis looks at them appraisingly for a minute. “From this planet? No. But I leave for Kakaranathara this cycle. It’s a much larger planet, and closer to Earth by far. You may be able to find somebody who can take you there.” 

Ric turns to Star, nods ever so slightly. It’s dangerous placing their trust in somebody else like this, and Kakaranathara is a slim chance. But the long days of travel and the lack of consistent food and rest are already starting to take their toll. They need time to rest and to breathe. 

“We have no way to repay you,” says Star warily.

“A chance to visit with my childhood heroes is plenty of repayment,” says Tobis. “Besides, my pod-mother would scold me for turning away any two lost souls so obviously in need of help as yourselves.”

==

The journey to Kakaranathara takes a week, and true to their word Tobis asks for nothing more than some inventory and help loading and unloading crates. 

Tobis waves their hand when Ric and Star ask to do more. “It’s nearly all automated anyway,” they say. “I’m just here to make sure the robots don’t rise up against us.”

At Ric and Star’s stare they break into raucous laughter.

“A joke!” They say. “The robots can’t fix themselves if anything goes wrong. Now, let me show you to your quarters.” 

Days and nights pass by on the ship uneventfully. At night, Tobis makes steaming cups of tea that tastes like cinnamon and jasmine and asks them about their time with X-Force. 

Star, ever the performer, delights in regaling Tobin with tales of their greatest victories and most interesting anecdotes. 

“...She had placed the bomb in the fridge, hoping to shock Roberto, but we all got called on mission suddenly and she forgot about it. When we returned, the kitchen was ashes. Cable made all of us clean it up.”

Tobis laughs heartily, wiping tears from their eyes. “And what about you, Ric? Where were you when all that was going down?”

An awkward silence falls over the room. “That was…” starts Ric.

“No, no I didn’t mean to pry, I simply--” starts Tobis.

“No, it’s fine,” says Ric, trying his best to keep irritation out of his tone. “That was just when I left the team for a while. I wasn’t there.” 

“Oh,” says Tobis. “My apologies. I assumed you were--”

“I’m feeling pretty tired,” says Ric abruptly. He knows he’s being rude, but he’s finding it very hard to care at the moment. “The space travel and all…”

“Of course,” says Tobis. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Ric says awkwardly. “Good night.” 

He can feel the weight of Tobis and Star’s stares as he walks away.

Their voices follow him through the empty ship as he walks down the hall “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject,” says Tobis.

“It’s alright,” says Star, the rest of his answer finally, mercifully lost to distance.

==

The room is dark and Ric is pretending to sleep when Star returns an hour later.

“Why were you rude to Tobis?” Star asks. 

“I wasn’t.” says Ric shortly. “I just wanted to go to bed.” 

“It was an honest question,” says Star. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Tobis has shown us enormous kindness.”

“I  _ know _ ,” says Ric “I just hate--” 

He can hear Star moving around in the small bathroom, getting ready for bed. He sits up so he can see Star. 

“I just hate having to talk about the worst time in my life,” he says. Star turns around and looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“The second worst time in my life,” he amends. “It’s a close race.”

“You know none of that matters any more,” says Star. “We’re together now.” 

Star walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. 

“It doesn’t hurt any less to talk about,” says Ric. “It just feels like watching reruns of my fuckups.” 

Star looks at him seriously for a moment. 

“Isn’t us being here, right now, having this conversation proof that you’re capable of fixing those ‘fuckups?’” Ric can hear the air quotes around the word.

Ric’s whole train of thought stops dead in his tracks, a rebuttal dead on his lips. He stops and laughs for a second, a half-choked sound. Star just looks at him, expression guarded like he’s ready for Ric to lash out. 

“I love you so fucking much,” Ric says instead. 

The look on Star’s face is so painfully, honestly hopeful that it makes Ric’s eyes sting. He blinks, trying to will the tears away.

“I love you, too,” says Star, sounding just a little surprised. 

==

It’s nice to have a bed and hot water and real food again, even if Ric knows it’s temporary. He finds himself ridiculously delighted by the smallest pleasures, and he revels in the ability to finally shave his beard and trim his hair a bit. 

“I can do yours too,” offers Ric as he finishes cleaning up the ends of his hair. 

Star’s in the middle of braiding his own hair, but he stops to look at Ric. It’s getting long now, long enough to wear it in a ponytail and long enough to do some of the elaborate braids that Star always favored when he his hair was as long as it was impractical. He looks at Ric searchingly.

“Is there something wrong with the length?” he asks.

“No, dude it’s not that, it’s just with all the travel, and we don’t know when—”

“Because I recall you speaking of it quite fondly of it when we were younger,” Star says, breaking out into a grin. 

“Stop it,” says Ric, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “I should never have—”

“‘A crimson curtain of flame that burns almost as bright as my—’”

“First of all, it sounded way better in Spanish,” says Ric, letting his hands shimmer with just enough power to make the contents of the bedside table rattle. “And if you recite another line of any bad poetry that I wrote when I was a confused, horny  _ teenager _ , I’ll take out you and the whole fuckin’ ship.”

“‘ _ Contenido _ ,  _ complicado _ ,  _ movible,’ _ ” Star continues, switching easily to Spanish. Ric lunges for him, scissors forgotten on the counter.

The fight is short and uneven and ends with Ric pinned against the bed of their shared quarters, breathing hard. Star is on top of him, using just one hand to pin both of Ric’s above his head. Ric shifts a little, just because he knows it’ll torture Star. 

Star looks down at him with a dark, all too familiar look in his eyes. In a single movement they’re kissing. Ric leans into it, comfortable and well-rested enough to actually think about Star and only Star for the first time in months. 

It’s as hungry and wet and imperfect as it was when they first started and Ric had been so completely moved by it that he’d had no other option than to write bad poetry about it and hide it under his mattress. 

They’ve crossed galaxies and fought and reunited and lost and gained whole new identities since they first started and Star still smiles against his mouth and still makes tiny, choked off noises exactly like he did all those years ago and still sometimes Ric doesn’t feel all that different from the person writing bad, repressed poetry.

Star’s mouth is wet against his but he wants more, can feel himself welling with frantic desire.

He smiles as he slides down Star’s body. It’s been so long but this is his favorite. He enjoys seeing the way that Star comes completely undone, his careful veneer shattering like sugar glass. The way Star tastes. The scratch of Star’s nails against his scalp. On his knees, up against the bed, the feeling of carpet under him, the shape of it almost like a prayer. 

==

Afterwards, they’re laying side by side, touching only at the knee, at the tip of the pinky. 

“You’re right though,” says Star, into the contemplative postcoital silence of the room. 

“Mm?” asks Ric, already on the verge of sleep.

“About my hair. It’s impractical, that’s why I cut it in the first place.”

“Oh,” says Ric. “I wasn’t serious. I was a shitty poet, but I was right. It looks good long.” 

Ric can hear the sheets rustle as Star turns his head towards him.

“I mean, do whatever you want, dude,” Ric amends. “But don’t cut it because of me”

Star makes that humming noise again, a long enough pause for Ric to think he might not say anything at all.

“I’ll leave it for now,” says Star finally, reaching to pull Ric towards him.

==

The rest of the trip goes smoothly and ends relatively quickly and just as Ric feels like they might be settling into life here, the ship is ready to dock. They disembark at Kakaranathara, where the port is already humming with activity. All around them, dock workers unload crates of supplies and wheel rolls of strange shimmering ribbon around. The air is loud and smells like spices and diesel fuel. It looks like a perfect place to get lost if Ric’s ever seen it. 

Tobis sees them off with a smile and a handful of credits. “Please,” they say. “Payment for making a usually boring journey so much more enjoyable.” 

Ric thanks them but Star is distracted by the noise and bustle of the port, and by the thousands of people of all different species bustling around. Ric looks at him fondly, forever enamored by the complete sense of wonder that marks the way that Star sees the world. 

Tobis watches them for a minute, a smile on their face. 

“The annual fertility festival,” they say almost conspiratorially. Snapped out of his reviere, Ric turns to look at him.

“What’s that?” Ric asks.

“That’s why it’s so busy here, and what all the ribbon is for. People come from all over to see it, the local custom is that all betrothed couples are linked on this day.”

Tobis gives them a knowing look. Ric’s blood runs cold, but Star looks impassive as ever. He’s standing with his head to one side, patiently waiting for Tobis to finish their story, apparently immune to the subtext of their comment. 

After a beat too long Tobis clears their throat and continues. “It’s a very popular wedding destination. It also means a lot of tourist money coming in. Today is the last day of the festival, ships will be leaving in the next couple days to all over the galaxy. I can give you a name, an old contact who might be able to get you close to earth.” 

“Thank you,” says Ric. “We’ll repay you if we ever can.”

“You have my loyalty, and my sword, should you ever need it,” says Star. “I will cut down any who dare to cross you.”

“Right,” says Tobin. “Well, it was certainly a pleasure. Good luck on your journey. I’m just glad I could be of assistance.”

And with that, they disappear into the loud, quickly moving crowds of the port. 

==

**Kakaranathara**

Kakaranathara is a desert planet. The city is filled with sandy, rough-walled towers and cramped alleyways. Their towering shade drives off the worst of the heat, but Ric can feel sweat forming on his back almost the moment he steps off the ship.

The city is decked out for the festival, with elaborate strings of jewels and paper stars hanging from the front of stores and market stalls. Everywhere, vendors are hawking their wares, selling jewelry and festival clothes and street food. After the isolation and loneliness of their journey thus far, the sudden, intense crush of revelry and merriment is almost too much for Ric to take.

He’s distracted by the sweet smell of baking cakes and the glitter of jewels in market stalls, and the sight of hundreds of beings decked out in their festival finery. It reminds Ric of nothing so much as Mardi Gras with everybody in their gaudiest, most colorful costumes.

Ric feels wildly out of place in his now much worse for the wear gladiator outfit, but they’ve never had the money to spare or the chance to steal anything better. He keeps telling himself that they’ll be able to figure something out once they get back to Earth. That’s all that matters now. 

In the chaos, Ric reaches out for Star’s hand to pull him close against the press of bodies and sounds. He interlaces their fingers and squeezes. Star squeezes back, the lightest pressure. It’s reassuring even as the press of people makes his heart beat faster.

At least this is a nice change from Earth. It only took a life-threatening journey and several lightyears’ distance from Earth for Ric to get comfortable holding Star’s hand in public, but now that he’s started he can’t stop. Even in the unending chaos of the last months, the constant feel of Star’s hand in his is a comforting presence. 

As they make their way through the winding streets, it’s easy to see why it’s called a fertility festival. All around them there are couples cuddling, touching, kissing, sharing food and ducking into alleys and leaning against storefronts.

Ric looks around and feels a vague sense of embarrassment, like he’s a teenager again, too nervous to admit what he and Star have between them.

Next to him, Star looks around in wonder, his eyes bright for the first time in months. Ric doesn’t need a mirror to see the way the marks of their journey are written on their skin, in tattered clothes and dark bags under both of their eyes. Their stay on the ship had helped, but it hadn’t fixed everything, not by a long shot. Ric tries not to wonder how much longer this can go on for. 

“Come on,” he says, tugging gently on Star’s hand. “We can get some food.”

==

The streets were crowded before, but a bell rings high overhead and suddenly the streets are packed. Ric and Star are pulled into a rising, funneling mass of people. 

“Tobis warned us about this,” says Ric, fighting to make himself heard over the noise of the crowd. “People are headed to the joining ceremony.” 

The motion of the crowd slows as people get more congested, and now the streets are more full than ever, brought to a standstill as people wait to move forward to the temple that performs the ceremony.

There’s people all around them, in pairs and groups of three or four, talking and laughing and kissing. The air smells like cinnamon and baking bread, and threads of bright, bouncing music dance through the air, almost but not quite drowned out by the sounds of chattering people. Somewhere nearby, the bell is still ringing. The sun is warm on the back of his neck and Star’s hand is a solid weight in his own. 

Star’s searching for an exit, already pulling Ric toward the edge of the crowd, when Ric stops suddenly.

Ric’s really not sure how he thought it would happen. The only person he ever considered marrying was Rahne and that was more of a teenage depression fantasy than a real, articulated desire.

And Ric knows that there’s a thousand alternate universes where this happened a different way. One where he gets way too drunk trying to work up the nerve to say anything and ends up asking while Star carries him home, princess-style. One where Star asks him as part of a carefully-planned affair with a nice dinner and rose petals and Ric is mildly embarrassed but also ridiculously pleased. One where they both propose at the same time and Madrox and Layla let it happen because they think it’s too funny to warn anybody ahead of time. 

But none of those things ever got the chance to be and now they’re standing here and Ric’s heart is about to beat out of his chest and he knows with such perfect, clear certainty that he loves Star that it’s making his throat tight and his eyes water.

“Shatterstar,” says Ric, suddenly more sure about this than he’s been about anything else in his life. There’s no time for a fancy proposal. He doesn’t get down on one knee and he’s not even sure what he’s going to say until he says it. 

Star turns to look at him. “Will you marry me?” Ric asks.

Star looks at him for a moment, just long enough for Ric to regret asking with every fiber of his being. Just when Ric has stopped breathing and his heart has stopped beating, Star’s face lights up with the brightest, most genuine smile Ric thinks he’s ever seen on anybody. Possibly the brightest, most genuine smile ever. 

“Julio Esteban Richter,” says Star, looking him dead in the eyes, quiet in the crushing noise of the crowd. “I have been waiting to marry you since I was 19.” 

Ric laughs, high and crazy, and then pulls Star down into a kiss. 

==

Everything moves very quickly after that. 

The crowd starts moving again, more slowly this time, and they’re let into the temple in groups. Ric places a donation in the box at the steps of the temple and lets one of the brown-robed priests wrap an iridescent silver ribbon around his wrist and then another one around Star’s.

The shifting colors of the ribbon melt away until both of the ribbons are the same bright yellow. Ric can see what looks like gossamer threads of light that connect his wrist to Star’s. When he runs his hand through them, they dissipate like dust and quickly reform when he moves his hand. 

They’re led into a huge, cavernous chamber filled with other pairs and groups. Everybody has a wristband and every group’s wristband is connected with those same faint strands, each a different color. 

At the door, another priest hands them each a thin white tunic. 

“Your clothes are to be placed on the shelves at the end of the room. You will not be allowed to enter into the joining place with your own clothes on,” they hiss. 

The antechamber is huge, and already filled with people. Star and the other people in the room show no hesitation in stripping down to put on the robe, so Ric reluctantly does the same. 

Ric’s not sure how long they stand in the room. He’s not sure what to say or do anymore, but he sits on the bench with Star’s hand in his lap, staring down at it and trying not to make the room shake.

“Are you sure you want to do this, dude?” Ric says. “‘Cause I mean, this is kinda our last out before…” he trails off. 

“Do  _ you  _ want to?” asks Star. “I want this...desperately,” he says, looking down at where his hand is still resting in Ric’s lap. “But we have time. A lifetime. I won’t do this if you’re unsure.” 

Ric looks down at his hands. For somebody who spent his teenage years speaking too loudly and acting too quickly, it’s kind of shocking that this is where his sense of caution kicks in. If this is personal growth, Ric isn’t sure he likes it.

Ric tries to imagine a future without Star in it. He doesn’t have to imagine that hard, he’s lived it after all. 

And he was able to make it work the first time, eventually. After a while it stopped hurting quite so bad, even. Eventually he stopped seeing Star in every redhead who walked past and learned to wake up in his empty bed and not immediately reach for the person next to him. With enough time he might have moved on. And then Star came back.

Didn’t just reappear in his life, but actually came back because of him, to be with him. And Ric doesn’t know how he’d ever move on from a guy willing to cross the galaxy for him.

They made it through all that and through nights so dark Ric wasn’t sure he’d ever see the light and Star is still here with that adoring gaze and that slightly off-kilter sense of humor and Ric still finds himself reaching for Star’s hand when he doesn’t know where to turn. 

“Yeah,” says Ric. “I really really do.” 

Star gives him that wild, dashing, lopsided smile and tilts his head like he’s not sure what to make of Ric.

“Alright,” says Star. “Then we’ll do it.”

==

A priest comes in to notify them that the ceremony is beginning shortly. Along with everybody else in the room, they place their clothes and shoes in the white cubby boxes that line the far wall.

Participants had been separated into different waiting rooms to change, but for the ceremony everybody is in the same towering, white room. The floor is lined with rows and rows of even black circles inlaid into the stone floor, each only about a foot or two wide, a stark contrast against the gleaming white of the temple floors. Everybody is silent, but the room rings with the sound of bare footsteps on the floors and the hushed, hissing voices of the priests.

It’s midday, and the sun streams in through the high windows of the temple, bathing everybody in golden light. Star’s hair gleams, pulling gold and orange and red as he moves. 

There’s no music, but a smell, heavy and warm and slightly burnt, perfumes the air. Ric can suddenly understand why people travel galaxies for this experience. A priest guides them to a circle, and they stand toe to toe inside, hands clasped, mirroring the thousands of other groups that form neat rows inside their own circles.

After every couple is in place, surprisingly quickly, the priests retreat. The room is too full for Ric to see where they go, so he turns back to look at Star instead. He looks into his eyes and sighs, just a little, nerves not quite completely vanquished. Star looks back at him, and then suddenly it begins.

Ric thought there would be some kind of speech, or prayer, even some music, but there’s not. All at once, every couple in every circle is engulfed in the same strange particles that tie the two ribbons together. Ric can feel them on his skin in a kind of buzzy, electric sensation, and he’s suddenly hyperaware of the way his hands feel at the places where they touch Star’s. It feels incredible. Better than any high Ric’s ever had.

Ric looks at Star and his first thought is  _ oh no, don’t cry _ , and his second thought is  _ oh no, I’m crying, too _ . 

==

Ric’s not really sure what happens after that. He knows the ceremony ends somehow and he knows they must have gotten their things and changed and left the temple with the thousands of other people and he knows that he never let go of Star once during that time, and he knows that now they’re laying too close on a tiny bed in a shitty inn at the edge of town because all the other ones were full. The air is still, and the sun is still out, so it can’t have been that long since the ceremony, but he also doesn’t know how long days are here, either.

Ric is staring at the cracking sand on the ceiling. They’re both wearing only their underwear because it’s hotter than even the Arizona desert, almost as hot as Mojoworld but not nearly as oppressive. 

He hasn’t had time to actually count the days, but he thinks it must have only been a month or two since they were last on Mojoworld. It feels like it’s been years and years. He feels like a completely different person, but he can still remember the cloying, oily way the air stuck in his lungs there. He takes a deep breath just to remind himself that he’s not there anymore. The air feels dry, almost rough on his lungs, but it’s clean. It tastes like sand and incense, not diesel and tar. 

“What’s it called when you go on vacation after your wedding?” asks Star, completely out of the blue. 

“A honeymoon?” asks Ric.

“Yes, that,” says Star. “Do you want to take a honeymoon?”

“Go on a honeymoon,” corrects Ric absently. “What about getting back to our old life?” 

“Vacations are temporary,” says Star, like that’s a real answer.

“That’s true,” says Ric. “Where do you want to go?”

Star is quiet for a long time. “I’m not sure,” he says. 

“Well,” says Ric. “I guess we’ve made it this far without knowing exactly where we’re going.”

“True,” says Star.

The room is silent for a while. Just the sound of their breathing and the gentle whine of insects in the air. A breeze picks up. 

“You know,” says Ric, rolling over so that he’s half on Star, one hand braced against the bed, the other roaming lower and lower down Star’s leg. “Our wedding wasn’t very traditional.” His hand starts to move in circles, gentle pressure. “But there is a Catholic wedding tradition I wouldn’t mind if we did anyway.”

“Oh,” says Star, the tiniest hitch in his breath. “And what’s that?” 

“Well,” says Ric. “I’m pretty sure it’s called consummation.”

Star breaks out into a grin and leans upwards to kiss Ric.

==

**Boca de Pascuales, Mexico**

They end up not exactly where they started, because they started in Guadalajara and most of Ric’s family still lives there, but close enough, in a small coastal town in Mexico. Not too off the beaten path, but not a tourist trap by far. He knows it’s beyond stupid to run away to the exact place that anybody with half a brain cell would think to look for him, but they’re both done running away for the moment. 

Besides, Ric thinks, this isn’t running away it’s just...retiring without telling anybody and hoping nobody comes to check up on them. 

At first, everything is difficult. When they were traveling, having each other in their line of sight at all times was a survival strategy: if one of them was lost, the other one was trapped. It had been reassuring after a while for Ric to feel that constant presence by his side, in his line of sight, at his back. They’re so close now that it feels like the line between them is starting to blur. They’ve spent so long in panic mode that they’re just one single train of thought, directed at whatever is going to keep them safest the longest. It worked well when they were only concerned with escape, but Ric knows they can’t keep going like this forever.

Having Star gone makes Ric feel scattered, his mind going a million miles an hour trying to concentrate on what he’s doing and worry about Star. Ric’s sure something in his head is going to break eventually.

Ric gets a job tending bar at the one beachside cabana that caters to surfers and particularly adventurous tourists. He works nights and weekends and gets paid cash in hand by a surly bartender who makes it clear from the very beginning that he’s not taking pity and has absolutely nothing in the way of sympathy for Ric. 

He hasn’t decided yet how it stacks up to superheroing. He’s never had a career outside of working for the X-Men or helping at his family farm. But the golden allure of having a semi-permanent address and consistent access to things like fresh food and soap is too strong. It takes them a month of camping on the beach and one night of particularly good tips at the bar, but they manage to scrape together enough to rent a bedroom on the top floor of a house on the edge of town.

Señora Flores doesn’t seem to care that they’re renting a one bedroom. She also doesn’t ask where they’re from or what they’re doing there when they show up on her doorstep one day, Star clutching a flyer that they’d torn off of a flagpole. 

She’d shown them around, explained the amenities (of which there were none) and held out her hand for 1,000 pesos to cover the first month’s rent. 

Things are better now, a little safer. Ric still wakes up at night, terrified and with a nagging sense of loss. He feels like there’s a hole right in the middle of his chest, a loss of pressure.  _ I miss him _ , Ric thinks, remembering the tiny, barely-there weight of baby Star in his arms. It aches sometimes. 

Star is usually awake, sharpening his swords. Ric’s not sure when he sleeps. He doesn’t sleep enough to argue about it. 

Ric sits up, heart still pounding, and pushes his hair back from his face. He turns to Star. They leave their house behind, jumping out the window to avoid waking Ms. Flores. They walk for hours, mapping the entirety of the town by night. They walk down the beach, side by side. It’s always silent. 

Sometimes, when they return, they fuck slow and lazy in the dawning light of the morning. Ric lays there, head thrown back, one hand over his mouth, doing his best not to make any sounds as Star moves inside him. Star makes a noise when he comes, only slightly louder than an exhale. 

He leans forward to kiss Ric, to lick the taste of himself out of Ric’s mouth and Ric grabs at him with desperate hands clawing up and down his back. 

The world feels very far away and Ric experiences things one at a time. The slide of skin on cotton as the sheets crinkle under him. The way Star’s mouth tastes in his. The ashy blue of the side table in the corner of the room. 

For a moment, everything is perfect. Ric runs his hands through Star’s hair, rakes blunt fingernails across his scalp and gasps into his mouth. When he comes, Ric feels like he’s falling apart at the seams.

==

“You  _ can’t  _ come to work with me,” says Ric. He’s holding his keys and standing in the doorway, back turned to the door and facing Star. 

“And I don’t understand  _ why _ ,” says Star, jaw locked, voice tight. “You want me there.” 

“Because,” says Ric, then stops. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “ _ Because  _ then Ricardo is going to think that something—” He switches to Cadre. “Something  _ weird _ is going on.” 

Star just looks angry, and Ric can already see that crease in his brow that means he’s going to dig his heels in about this. “There  _ is  _ something going on between us!” he says, angry gestures punctuating his statements. “And I will never understand your  _ fekting  _ human—” That wasn’t what Ric had been talking about, not really, but it still hurts to hear Star put it like that.

Ric doesn’t have time to correct him before he stops mid-sentence. “This is exactly like last time,” Star says, voice low and hurt. 

All the air leaves Ric’s lungs. 

They look at each other for a long moment and then Ric takes a breath, trying to steady his fraying nerves. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I fucked up. I can’t bring  _ anybody _ to just sit in the bar for my whole shift. It’s not—I don’t  _ care  _ if Ricardo knows I’m—.” He doesn’t know the word for “gay” in Cadre. Doesn’t know if there’s a word for husband, or lover, or soulmate. He settles for gesturing between them.

Star doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, a muscle in his jaw standing out. Ric knows it’s not enough, really, but he’s already late and he doesn’t have time to make it better. 

“I’m sorry,” says Ric, switching back to Spanish in defeat. “I have to go. I’ll be home by four.” 

“I will see you then,” says Star, somehow managing to make it sound like a warning. 

==

He runs into Señora Flores on his way through the kitchen. He tries not to flinch as she turns, puts on his best neutral expression. 

“There was a lot of noise upstairs,” she says.

There’s an awkward pause while Ric waits for her to say something else. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I can’t have trouble around here,” she says. 

“There’s no trouble,” says Ric. “It won’t happen again.” 

Señora Flores just looks at him. “Rent is due next week,” she says, then turns away. 

==

Work goes by slower than it has any right to, even though the night is busy. Ric can’t stop counting down the minutes until he can return home, can’t stop thinking about the hurt expression in Star’s eyes. He runs through a thousand conversations in his mind, but the only thing he can think about is how badly he wants the chance to apologize. He’s different.  _ They’re _ different, and yet Ric still feels like he’s being haunted by his past self. He’s spent the past few months feeling the most lost that he ever has, but now that he’s back on familiar ground he’s finding all the old problems right where he left them. 

He finishes up as quickly as he can and does his best not to glare down the sloppy-drunk tourists laughing into their Coronas and piña coladas. He walks home and tries not to linger over it. 

When he gets in, the hall is dark, but there’s a sliver of light under the door. Star is doing a handstand on his index finger against the wall. 

“Hey,” says Ric, trying and failing to seem casual as he moves to put his keys and bag away. 

Star doesn’t say anything.

“Can you de-handstand so that we can talk?” asks Ric, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

After a moment Star rights himself and slides his back down the wall so he’s facing Ric. Ric waits for Star to start. 

“Are you going to run away again?” asks Star. 

“Do you really think I would do that?” asks Ric. 

“Not lately,” says Star, acid in his voice. 

Ric looks down at his hands. It hurts more than he thought it would, but hasn’t this always been the thing with them? They’ve fought before. Ric’s seen this story play out too many times, knows the way that it ends by heart. They’re both good at running away. It’s what drives them apart every single time. 

Ric knows that they’re meant to be together. He can feel it in the way that Star’s hand fits in his and the way that Star knows exactly what he’s thinking without either of them ever speaking and in the way that he fell in love at 19 and hasn’t really been in love with anybody since. When he’s with Star, nothing compares. Star’s the kind of person that makes him want to make insane promises. 

So Ric fights down every impulse to say something that he’s going to regret later and says instead,

“On Kakaranathara you said we had a lifetime,” he says, and feels his voice crack. 

Star looks at him and nods, heartbreak evident on his face. Star knows the script as well as Ric does, and Ric’s sure he thinks he knows where this is going.

“I didn’t even think I was gonna make it to 25, you know? I was like, ‘Well, I’m gonna die young so I might as well do the only thing I’m good at until that happens,’ and you know, I was kinda fine with that,” says Ric, scrubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand. 

“Julio--” says Star, his voice soft.

“No no, it’s okay, I’m going somewhere with this,” says Ric. “I just—Nothing in my life has  _ ever  _ worked out the way that I wanted it to and I told myself I wasn’t gonna make any more promises I know I can’t keep, because, ya know, I’m tired of letting people down and I’m tired of being disappointed, but then,” Ric knows he’s rambling but he can’t stop, sniffs wetly around the tears and forges on. Across the room Star just looks at him. “And then I made basically the biggest promise I’ve ever made, you know? And I’m not interested in breaking any promises. And I love you. I want to be with you for the long haul, even if it’s hard right now.” He’s crying in earnest now, and it would be embarrassing if he couldn’t see Star looking at him with shining eyes. 

Star just gets up off the bed and hugs Ric. “I love you, too,” he says into Ric’s hair. They stay like that for a long moment. 

When they finally break apart, Star sighs and Ric wants to laugh at how ridiculously human it sounds. “Everything is much simpler when I’m fighting for my life,” he says eventually. “I’ve never been good at living for the sake of it.” 

“I understand the feeling,” says Ric. “I feel like we should try anyway though.” 

“What if it doesn’t work out? What if we build a life here and I realize that the only thing I’m good at is what I was raised to do?” asks Star. “What if I never want to settle down into all of this?” Star gestures expansively at their room, the one that doesn’t look so different from the one they shared together when they were 19.

Ric looks around at the room. At the cracking plaster and the rumpled bed sheets. Is this paradise? Not necessarily. Ric could see himself growing comfortable here, or somewhere like here. But it’s certainly never been his dream. 

“Vacations are temporary,” says Ric, like that’s a real answer. “We’re not stuck here forever.”

Star thinks about it for a moment. “I think it’s time for us to move on,” he says finally.

“You said you wanted to find Alison,” Ric reminds him.

“That’s true,” says Star.

“Well,” says Ric. “Let’s do it, then. We still have two weeks here,” 

==

Ric should have known the past was going to catch up with them eventually. 

The market is bustling with people, people haggling at stalls, weaving bikes through the packed crowd, and setting up and taking down stalls.

Ric’s pressed up against the rough wood of a stand, eyeing the tomatoes. He’s just lifted his head up to start the bargaining process, when somebody runs into him full speed.

He turns to yell at the person, to ask where what the fuck they think they’re doing, when he’s greeted to the sight of mirrored shades and a red leather trench coat. He only knows one person that would wear a red leather trench coat in the middle of summer in Mexico.

He’s not going to say anything, is ready to turn back and pretend like this never happened, when Tabitha Smith turns around, a sneer on her face. 

“What the fuck are you—” she says, then stops. “Ric?” she asks, too loud, drawing attention to them.

“Hey,” says Ric, like she didn’t just catch him hiding out and trying to make a new life for himself.

“I thought you were dead!” she says. “Everybody was talking about it! It was big news!”

“Well,” says Ric. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“How do I know it’s really you and not just some telepathic alien wearing your skin to try an’ trick me?”

“Why would I be doing that?” says Ric. 

“Because you’re dead!” says Tabs.

“Am I an alien or a ghost?” says Ric. “Make up your mind.” 

“You know what?” says Tabs. “I think it really is you.” 

“Thanks,” says Ric, turning back to the produce stand. 

Tabs shoves several people out of the way and squeezes in next to him, absently touching the fruit as she speaks. “Everybody thought you were dead, you know,” she says. “There was a funeral an’ everything. A real shitshow, let me tell you.” 

“Oh?,” says Ric. “Who was there? Anybody interesting?”

“Oh yeah,” says Tabs, gesturing wildly. People nearby duck to avoid her. “All the X-Men, the whole crew.” 

“Scott was there?” asks Ric doubtfully. 

“No,” says Tabs. “Cable was though.” 

Ric snorts, and pulls three tomatoes that look promising off the stand and digs in his wallet for cash to pay the shopkeeper. He hands her the money and she smiles warmly.

“Seriously though,” says Tabs. “What are you doing out here? There are people back home who miss you.” 

“I’m on my honeymoon,” says Ric, with a little shrug, like it’s not the most important thing in the world.    
  


“Your what?” asks Tabs, too loud. “You know what? I’m back to thinking you’re an alien. Who did you get married to? No, scratch that, dumb question. Where is Shatterstar anyway? When did you get married? Why are you here on your honeymoon and not somewhere fun like, I dunno, Disneyland or something?” 

Ric just shrugs. “Star’s at home,” he says. 

“Where’s home?” asks Tabs.

Ric sighs. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” 

“Definitely not,” says Tabs cheerfully. “Are you going to invite me over for dinner?” 

==

Ric and Star and Tabs sit on a concrete wall overlooking the water and eating elote. They’re sitting all in a row, Tabs on one side next to Ric and Star, Ric leaning gently against Star, shoulder to shoulder. It feels almost like old times again. 

“So,” says Tabs, wiping Tajin off her face with the back of her hand. “Married, huh?”

“Yep,” says Ric. 

“But no rings?” 

Ric just holds out his arm to show her the ribbon still tied around his wrist. It was starting to look a little ragged, but the strange iridescent pattern was still there. Tabs leans in to admire it, so close that he can feel her breath on his arm.

“We got these,” he says. 

“Huh,” says Tabs, leaning back and sounding unimpressed. “So, like, when are you coming back? We could have, like, an engagement party or something. Get the OG X-Force crew back together or whatever.” 

Ric turns to look at Star. 

“We have some things to finish before we can return,” says Star. 

“Like what? I’ve  _ seen  _ your house. You’re not up to much.” 

“We’re gonna find Star’s mom,” says Ric, even though he knows this just going to set off another round of questions. 

“You’re going back to Mojoworld?” asks Tabs.

“No,” says Star sharply. “My mother is Dazzler. She’s still on Earth.”

Ric is pretty sure that if Tabs could have pulled off a spit take, she would have. She settles for raising her glasses to show her shocked expression. 

“Damn!” she says. “I mean...Damn! That’s crazy. No wonder y’all look so much alike. Ugh do me a favor and  _ never _ tell Sam, okay? I don’t have the cash to pay him back right now.”

Ric makes a mental note to tell Sam at the soonest available opportunity.

“So I guess that means Longshot is your dad then?” says Tabs.

“Well--” says Star.

“Yes,” Ric cuts him off. “Anyway, that’s why we need to find Dazzler.” Next to him, Star nods. 

“Shit,” says Tabs. “Well, last I heard she was in LA. She’s recording a new album or something I think. And like, full offense, but why are you guys here,” Tabs gestures, hand up and palm open at the ocean. “Instead of like, actually looking for her?”

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Ric says at the exact same time that Star says, “They don’t take alien currency on Earth.” 

Tabs nods thoughtfully. “Well,” she says. “I’m all hooked up with this new X-Force gig right now, and Cable made the mistake of giving me his black card. He was all ‘This is only for official business Tabitha,’ and ‘Make sure she doesn’t use it at any Gucci stores, Dom’ you know the drill. But anyway, I figure what kind of bridesmaid would I be if I didn’t get you some kind of wedding present so--” At that, Tabs starts digging around in her top. Ric stares, fascinated. 

“But you’re not--” says Star. Ric squeezes his arm.

“Shatty,” says Tabs, producing the card from somewhere in her shirt with a flourish and handing it to Ric. “That is  _ so  _ not the point.”

Ric takes the card, which is disconcertingly warm and slightly damp, between his thumb and index finger.    
  


“Why can’t you get a wallet like a normal person?” he asks.

“Because of pickpockets, dipshit,” says Tabs. “Now take the gift you stupid dorks. I gotta go check in before Dom thinks I’m MIA, but just make sure you get that back to me after you find your mom.” 

Before Ric can stop it, Tabs has leaned over and is hugging them. Before anything truly disastrous can happen, it’s over and Tabs has hopped off the wall and is headed off down the sidewalk. She turns around once, to wave over her shoulder at them, and then she’s gone.

==

**Los Angeles, California**

And just like that, they’re in LA. Ric uses the credit card to get them a hotel room and a computer and from there it’s surprisingly easy to start looking for Dazzler. 

Now, they’re standing on the street in front of her apartment building. Ric looks up at the building, then over at Star. Ric’s not really sure what to make of Star’s expression. He can tell by the way that he’s shaking very slightly that he’s terrified, but Star’s face is impassive. 

“Are you okay?” Ric asks for maybe the third time today.

Star looks over at him, takes Ric’s hand, and cracks one of those half-insane, half-dashing grins that have always driven Ric absolutely crazy.

“I am now,” he says. And just like that he’s walking over and hitting the call button on the door. 

“Hello?” says a crackly female voice on the other side of the speaker.

“This is Shatterstar,” says Star, even though she can no doubt see him through the camera. “I was on Mojoworld recently and learned something that I would like to discuss with you. I’d prefer not to talk about it on the street.”

There’s the telltale clicking noise of the door unlocking and then Alison’s voice is back on the speaker. “Come up,” she says. 

Ric lets his fingers trail along Star’s for a long moment as Star walks in the door. 

“I’ll be right here whenever you’re done,” says Ric. “Just call me.”

Star nods, face serious, and then he’s gone, the door slamming behind him with finality. 

They’d discussed this. Ric had agreed at the time, but it still hurt watching Star walk into something like this alone. He stares at the impassive face of the door for a long time. 

== 

Ric does a couple of laps around the block and gets a coffee at a ridiculously overpriced coffee shop in Alison’s neighborhood. After two hours, he goes back to Alison’s building. 

He’s been sitting on the curb, counting rocks on the pavement when Star sits down beside them.

“Hey, dude,” Ric says. “I thought you were gonna call.” 

Star doesn’t say anything but his eyes and nose are red, stark against his pale skin and his freckles. He sniffs wetly, but he’s not crying.

“Did it go okay?” Ric asks with concern. He wasn’t sure what a worst-case scenario would be, but the tears aren’t promising. 

Star nods, the corners of his mouth turning down. 

“Do you wanna go home?” asks Ric.

Star nods again.

“Okay,” says Ric. “Let’s go.”

==

Star walks in behind Ric, and Ric jumps at the sound of the slamming door behind him. Star is standing there, already facing him with an expression on his face that makes Ric’s blood go cold. Star’s mouth is open, halfway to a real sentence before his expression breaks. 

“Hey,” says Ric, walking towards him. “You can tell me all about it later. Come here.” 

He pulls Star down towards him and Star crumples against him. Ric lowers them both to the ground right there against the door. 

They stay there for a long time. Ric runs his hand over Star’s hair again and again, Star hunched against him, face pressed into his neck. They stay like that until Ric’s arms ache and his tailbone goes numb. 

Finally, Star uncurls from against him. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” says Ric, trying to keep his tone light even as he feels his heart breaking for Star. He reaches for Star’s hand, just for something to do.

Star gives him a grin that’s so small and unsure that Ric nearly pulls him into another crushing hug. Instead, he runs his hand along the side of Star’s face.    
  


“Whatever it is,” Ric says. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

==

Star is silent until the pizza arrives. They eat it sitting cross-legged on the floor, back up against the bed. The TV is playing a rerun of some stupid sitcom they’ve both seen a thousand times. 

“She said she forgives me,” says Star, into the stillness of the room.

“That’s good,” says Ric. 

“And that I have my father’s eyes,” says Star.

“Oh,” says Ric. He studies the pattern on the carpet. 

“There was a lot of crying,” says Star voice flat and emotionless. “She asked if she could hug me.”

“Did you say yes?” asks Ric. 

Star nods around a bite of pizza. “She asked if we would go to dinner tomorrow.” 

“She wanted me to come to dinner?” asks Ric, looking up in surprise.

“Yes,” says Star. He’s looking at the TV, not distracted but focused. 

“Do you want me to come?” asks Ric carefully. 

“Yes,” says Star with a sense of finality to his tone. 

==

Less than 24 hours later and they’re standing outside a restaurant so trendy that it makes Ric’s skin itch. 

“Ready?” asks Ric, somehow more nervous than when he was fighting for his life on any of the dozens of planets they were on before. 

Star nods, and they walk into the building.

He spots Alison almost immediately, sitting in a cozy back corner and playing nervously with the rings on her fingers. She looks up and smiles as they walk towards her.

“Shatterstar,” she says warmly, standing up to give him a hug before turning to Ric. “Ric. I’m so glad you could make it.” 

She smiles at him warmly, and Ric does his best to look pleasant and not entirely alarmed. 

==

Dinner is nice, if slightly awkward. 

“So,” says Alison, pausing briefly to take a sip of her wine. “Congratulations on coming back from the dead. I think that makes you officially X-Men now.” 

Ric laughs a little at that. “Wow, I’ve been superheroeing since I was 16 and this is what finally does it. I wish somebody’d told me sooner.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was in the handbook,” says Alison, completely deadpan. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” says Ric after a minute. “But you seem like you’re handling all this very well.” Under the table, Star places his hand on Ric’ leg. 

Alison’s halfway through a bite of her salad but she gives an easy shrug. For just a moment Ric can see why there are so many legions of adoring fans who worship Dazzler. 

“It’s part of the job description,” she says, finally. “I can’t pretend like this is easy to hear. Or to process. But,” she turns to look at Star, a sad little smile on her face. “I’ve lost people before. It’s better to focus on what I’ve gained.” 

==

They leave the restaurant and Ric is slightly tipsy from the too-nice wine that Alison paid for and the lights of the city sway and smear. He’s leaning on Star’s arm, not his whole weight against him but enough to create a solid presence. 

“She’s nice,” says Ric, straight ahead into the darkness. 

Star doesn’t say anything and finally Ric turns towards him. The lights of the streetlight catch him just right. His eyelashes glow and they’re so bright against the darkness that Ric tries not to squint.

“Hey,” he says. “What’s wrong?” 

“I was hoping that finding Alison would...fulfil me. I thought I might...feel complete,” Star says. He reaches up, puts one hand to his chest and squeezes. “But I don’t really. It still feels…hollow.” 

“Yeah,” says Ric. “I think that’s just how it goes. It gets better eventually though.” 

“Truly?” asks Star. “I’m unused to healing wounds but this feels...infinite.” 

“I know it may not help,” says Ric. “But even if it never heals. Even if we gotta go on a thousand soul searching missions and live out of duffel bags for the rest of forever, I’ll be fine.”

Star looks at him. “What do you mean?” he says.

“We’ve made it through just about everything,” says Ric. “I mean.” He throws his hands up to the sky and looks at the washed out grey-black sky that’s so different from every other sky that they’ve slept under in the past six months. “Everything! And I’m still here, you’re still here, I still love you so fucking much. We can do anything.” 

LA twists and turns around them. The streetlights and the city lights spin and blur and twirl together. Ric’s never felt quite so powerless and quite so much like he owns the world before. Like everything he wants is right there so long as he can just reach out and grab it. 

“Anything?” asks Star.

“Sure,” says Ric. “What do you have in mind?”  
  



End file.
